Living His Love

Sybil shook her head gently from side to side. Her brows creased, and she looked at Kambry as if she were deciding what to share. “Miss do Brode, don’t forget you have this ring on. When you are interacting with others, be aware of any changes.”

“It turned green when I was with the prince, just a moment.”

Sybil nodded, showing she wanted to hear more.

“I said I wasn’t hungry, but I was. It flashed; however, he didn’t seem concerned.”

“The ring calibrates to you. A flash shows recognition that you have leaned away from the ring of truth. It will cease to do that as it adjusts to your temperament and view of the world.”

“So it’s not looking for lies.” Kambry twisted the ring around her thumb. “It’s looking for something else.”

“It looks for intent to betray.” Her tongue ran the circuit along her teeth. “I imagine you have told white lies to protect someone’s feelings or hide the plans for a surprise party, for example.”

Kambry nodded.

“You were not intending to betray your friend. It tethers your actions and words to your intent to protect or keep the surprise.”

“I see. That seems like an excellent reason to have me wear it, doesn’t it? The prince can see if I have the intention to commit treason against him.”

“True.”

“I feel as if there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You are correct, but my reasons for holding back are not to betray you. I cannot decide what to tell you about the ring. I think you should ask the prince about it the next time you dine with him.”

“But that’s not for several days. I’m to see him just once a week. Besides, I think he just forgot to ask for it back.”

“I am certain he did not forget.” Sybil stood. “Be watchful, Miss do Brode. Of the ring and of those around you. I will be watching.”

Sybil walked Kambry to the door. “Do you remember how to get to your room?”

She nodded.

“There are guards at most turns. Watch your surroundings and ask for an escort for any reason,” Sybil said. “I thank you for coming so quickly. You are free to go.”

Kambry stepped into the corridor. According to the page, Kambry had had no choice but to come at once. It probably said in the book on etiquette that one should pretend an order was a request to build a friendly relationship with questionable characters. She smiled at Sybil and walked away at the click of the door shutting.

A guard stood at the corner and nodded at her. Returning to her room by herself would be a test of her efforts to get around the castle. The page had brought her down to the first floor, along a length of hallway that led around a corner, then back up to the second floor where they had come upon Sybil’s office almost immediately. If she had her directions straight, they had been close to the prince’s apartment, and it was a simple path to return.

As Sybil had said, there was a guard at most corners, but some halls were long. She’d taken several turns before she remembered she should stay vigilant.

It made the return take longer as she walked slower and looked ahead and around every corner before proceeding. By the time she reached her room, she was feeling jumpy. She’d made a few guards jump when she popped around corners to peek before entering a new corridor. She kept wanting to giggle, and did once or twice, at their surprised expressions though the raised batons stole away the laughter quickly.

Lessa calling her name brought her to a stop that found her semi-crouched by her own bedroom door.

“You okay?” Lessa asked, striding down the hall toward

her.

“Just thought I was alone.”

“It’s close to dinnertime. I thought I’d walk you to the

mess or did you have other plans?”

“I just got back from Sybil’s office. I didn’t realize it was that late. I’ve no plans.”

“Then come on. It’s probably stew again. We usually run a stew, stew, stew, mutton, beef and stew pattern with the lunch and dinner meals. Guards live on stew.”

“It’s fine stew.”

Lessa grinned. “I’ve lost count. It might be mutton tonight.”

When they came to the display of the mail and pike, Lessa steered clear of it. “Did Sybil tell you someone had tampered with it?” she asked.

“It appears I’m lucky you were uninjured. Your marshal of the guards would have blamed me.”

“What? How would you have known which direction we were going? I was the one who took you to the mess hall for breakfast.”

Kambry shrugged her shoulders.

“You ever handled a pike before?” “Not a pike. I’ve used a club.”

“Every farmer’s son and daughter has. I bet you know how to swing a pitchfork, too.”